“What day is it?” asked the child.
“It’s the day after yesterday, and the day before tomorrow,” replied her mother.
“Why hasn’t he come yet? The wind blows warm, and nestlings cry out. Why hasn’t the Merry Maker come?” questioned the child.
Each year, at the height of summer, the village children are treated to a magical extravaganza.
“Last year he was late, do you think he doesn’t like our village?” inquired the girl.
“No, I don’t. I have it on good authority that the Merry Maker loves this village very much,” her mother said.
“It’s because he’s old, isn’t it?” muttered the child.
The woman remained silent as she tried to find an answer to the child’s statement. “Yes, it is,” came the answer.
“Do you think he died? In his sleep, peacefully, nothing horrid like being eaten by wolves,” said the child.
Her mother’s mouth fell open. “Honestly, child, I don’t know where you get these ideas. I’m sure we would have heard news if anything happened to him,” reassured her mother.
I’m going to the open space and wait for him in case he comes today,” the girl said.
“That is an excellent idea. Be home by dusk, or you’ll go to bed on an empty stomach,” the child’s mother said.
As the girl raced to the grassy meadow, she thought she heard bells jingling. “Could it be him?” cried the child.
Rounding the bend in the path, she was met with a fantastical sight. In the grassy meadow stood the Merry Maker, surrounded by children who sat motionless.
“You’re here,” cried the girl as she joined the others.
All afternoon, the old man told stories, juggled balls, and pulled rabbits from a hat. As the sun finally touched the horizon, the Merry Maker bowed. He told the children he would see them the following year.
“I wish you could live here with us all the time,” said the girl.
The Merry Maker smiled, then leaned forward and whispered into her ear, “So do I.”
As the child’s mother tucked her in for the night, the child asked how many days until next year.
“The same as last year and the same as it will be next year,” said her mother. She then kissed her daughter goodnight.
“Don’t worry, mother. I’m sure he will be fine until we see him again,” said the child.
The child’s mother smiled and then said, “I know he will. Folks like the Merry Maker have their very own angel that watches over them,”
The child closed her eyes and imagined a golden-winged angel floating above the man.
“Keep him safe, Miss Angel. We need him to come back,” said the child, as she fell off to sleep.
Folksburywoods 
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